Chapter 13

13

A MONTH LATER

"O h, no. Is that what I think it is?" Gwen peered through the blurry windshield. A fine mist cloaked the view, what she could see, anyway. The woods bordering this twisty back road blacked out most of the daylight, but no one could miss the flashing yellow light on the barrier. "The road's closed?'

Will rolled nearer before stopping. "‘Use alternate route'," he read aloud.

"But this is the way we have to go." She glanced at her phone. Her cousin had called to tell her they were all ready to surprise Uncle Tim for his birthday. She and Will needed to get there as soon as possible. "The road crew could at least tell you where to find that."

"We passed an intersection twenty yards back." Naturally, Will had noticed his whereabouts. He called that skill situational awareness, which she obviously needed to improve upon herself. This part of the county had a lot of twisty roads that circled large estates. "It wasn't a driveway?" she asked.

"Not that I could see."

Gwen looked behind them. The tail lights caught little of the dark, drenched landscape between swipes of the rear wiper. Coming from her apartment farther south near the thruway, they wouldn't have taken this route. But they were coming from a party at one of Will's sisters, who lived across the river.

"If we're going to go that way, I need to reverse now, before the car coming up behind us blocks us."

She gripped the cold door handle. "I can get out and hold up my hand to stop them."

"That's okay. we'll manage."

We will. Will always included her. He didn't need to claim credit the way her egocentric ex-boyfriend always had. "They're stopping, but be careful."

Will began reversing down the road. "You know I am."

In her book, this wasn't entirely true. He'd put his life on the line for her already two or three times. She'd never experienced that sort of protectiveness before from a guy. He had stepped up to help her only minutes after their meeting each other.

Maybe that came from his being former military ops, but how he could feel so invested in her after such a short acquaintance, she didn't know.

The rain had stopped by the time they'd reversed to the intersection with the side road. "There's no working light on the barrel, but I see a detour sign half way off the pavement," he said.

She peered past him. The arrow pointed down a road which ran under a commuter train trestle at the bottom of the hill.

Her chest tightened. Quickly, before Will could follow the arrow, she grasped his arm. "Turn left," she urged, gesturing madly in that direction.

He glanced at her with what in the dim interior might be a frown. "I'm pretty sure that way will take us back to Briar Cliff and the bridge."

And they'd lose a lot of time. Gwen checked the time on the phone clutched in her lap. If they were going to make the party, they couldn't waste any more time.

"Never mind." A half-laugh escaped her. She'd be fine. It had been years, after all. "I don't know what I was thinking."

She did know, of course, and clutched the arm rest with one hand and the edge of the seat with the other. She wanted to close her eyes, but the dread kept her staring straight ahead as the road neared the bridge supports. As the pavement narrowed, her breath clogged her lungs. No visual evidence remained now, but?—

"Are you all right?" Will's concerned voice overrode the swish of air from the vents.

With her heart still thudding, she could barely speak. "F-fine." She rubbed her sweaty palms together. "But would you mind stopping for ice cream? I think we can squeeze that in before visiting."

Will massaged the gear shift knob and lifted an eyebrow in question. She knew what he must be thinking. She'd been rushing to get to her aunt and uncle's, but now she'd changed her mind? He'd be curious, but she couldn't explain. Not yet.

* * *

"I'm assuming we're going to Bailey's?" Will kept his tone light and teasing.

"Right." Gwen said and clenched her jaw.

"No problem." He threw her a smile. Taking that detour had made her tense up for some reason. Once she relaxed, she'd probably tell hm what had spooked her. Or else he didn't understand her at all.

"I'm calling my aunt. I'll tell her we'll be delayed."

"You still want to go visit?" He turned off the wipers. His sisters were important to him, and one of the things he appreciated about Gwen was that she remained close to her own family. So far, he'd been to their house five times in the month he'd been seeing her, and each time they'd welcomed him with open arms.

"Definitely." She tapped her phone and lifted the device to her ear. "Let me talk to Aunt Kathy and find out what's going on."

Some fifteen minutes later, he parked in an angled spot at the old-timey-styled ice cream parlor and restaurant. He'd been so focused on watching for a black SUV the first time they'd come, he'd barely noticed the décor.

"I used to come here a lot in high school." Her seatbelt swished into the retractor spool. Her door cracked open. "Especially after final exams. My reward for all that stress from studying."

He slid out of the driver's seat and went around to help her out. Since that first weekend, nothing dangerous had happened. The FBI had locked up Winston and Caruceko, the renegade arms dealer, so whatever had shaken her must be something else. He'd learned Gwen had to do things on her own timetable, though. If she wanted to reveal her secret, she would. If she never did, he would have to deal with having misjudged her, walk away, and lick his wounds.

The thought nearly paralyzed him. He didn't want to lose her, and everything that had happened since that first weekend only strengthened his certainty.

A car door banged shut and Gwen came around, her gaze already focused on the windows along the booths. "It looks really crowded."

"We could sit at the counter if need be." He took her hand.

"Stools are for losers." Her smile showered him with sparkles. "We'll find a booth. Have faith."

Warmth and cheery voices greeted them when they stepped inside. The enticing smell of grilling hamburgers and toasty French fries filled the air. He ignored his grumbling stomach as Gwen had assured her aunt they'd still want supper.

Will held up two fingers to the hostess.

"I've got a table in the back." She took menus from a bracket, pausing while a foursome vacated a booth.

"Can we take this one?" Gwen pointed to a pile of dirty dishes on the booth beside them.

Did she really want to sit here? This was the same one they'd occupied the first time.

The woman frowned. "It needs to be bused."

He opened his mouth to say they didn't mind the table in the rear when a bus boy appeared and began to fill his tub.

He let Gwen slip in first, and he sat across from her. He glanced at the menu. Gwen stared at hers, so he flipped through the songs on the vintage juke box mounted on their table. Finally, she lifted her head. He smiled before he noticed she wasn't even looking his way, but instead staring over his shoulder, her expression pinched.

She gasped and looked at him. "This was where we sat when we were watching for the black sports utility five weeks ago."

"I know. Do you want to find someplace else?"

"We might as well stay here since we're not going to be here long." She took a napkin from the holder and tore off a strip, frowning.

The whole point in coming here, for him anyway, was to get her to relax and tell him why she'd gotten so upset about the detour. Was it the road? The train overpass? Something else?

Their first night together she'd revealed her trust issues, but he must have proved himself. So far, she hadn't run screaming into the night. Something troubled her now, something big because she'd looked more shaken than he'd ever seen her. Something he wanted to know about. Now, before they wasted any more time.

She tore another piece from the napkin. "I know the FBI arrested Caruceko and Winston, but revisiting Bailey's still feels a little creepy."

He needed to get her thinking about something else. "Some couples have a favorite song." He patted the music selector box. "We have a favorite booth at Bailey's."

"We're a couple?" Gwen's startling blue eyes pinned him. And that blasted groove cut between her brows again.

"I think so." He nodded, holding his breath for her response.

Their malts came before she said anything more. She didn't even look as if she would. While the sweet coldness sliding down his throat tasted wonderful, it only seemed to deepen the black void filling his gut.

They discussed plans for her cousin's wedding, but she never mentioned what had frightened her about the train trestle. Would she ever trust him enough to confide the cause of that…trauma? Or had he already lost her?

Later, when they left, Will slid his hand down to hers as they crossed the lot to his Jeep, the crisp autumn air a relief after the warm restaurant. Her shoulder brushed his. Their hands weren't a lot of bodily contact and he wished they were in a bed—hers, his, didn't matter, so he had access to all of her.

He caught her intoxicating scent and wanted nothing more than to bury his nose in her hair and fill his whole being with her essence. Didn't she know that?

She'd questioned his description of their relationship as a couple, and he needed to do something to show her they were. Irrevocably.

She reached for the passenger door handle, but he unwound her fingers and pulled her hand away. Her eyes widened and he swooped in close, covering her lips with his. Her surprise made her hesitate, but then she opened her sweet mouth to his, trusting him. And he took the kiss deeper.

He pulled her close, splaying a hand across her back so that her body fit against his. Finally, she reached up and slid her fingers through his hair. He kissed her cheeks, her ears, her neck, and his body grew hard and hot.

A car door banged close by. Laughing voices blew away the remains of the delicious fog of the kiss. He lifted his head, pressing his forehead to hers a moment before releasing his hold. He'd never done something he mostly considered private out in the open like this. Gwen seemed private, too, and the muscles in his shoulders knotted as he waited for her to respond—or not.

She stared at him for a beat, retreated a step. "What was that for?"

He couldn't read her reaction, but he decided to play this light. He pulled up one side of his mouth. "Do I need a reason?"